Dawes Plan
by rev lady mal
Summary: Full Title - The Dawes Plan: Robbing Alfred to Pay Alfred - Germany’s flush for cash yet somehow still broke. France stops by and tries to collect some reparation money. Characters: Germany, Prussia, England, Lithuania, America, N & S Italy And France
1. Chapter 1

Germany carefully brushed an even coat of glue to the thin, oblong slip of paper. He lifted it by its corners and applied it to the wall, smoothing it out and making sure it was even with the other worthless banknotes. Outside he could hear the children laughing as they made a fort out of bricks of wrapped money and pretended to shoot at imaginary French soldiers.

"Jesus it's colder than Hungary's tit in here!" Prussia grumbled as he stomped into the room. He went over to the little stove in the corner, grabbed an armload of money and tossed it in. He stood with his hands stretched out towards the flames, watching the children outside run out of their money fort and pelt a boy they declared to be France with stones. Prussia grinned as the poor boy started screaming at his playmates to stop; a stone hit his glasses and broke the lens. He turned to warm his backside and stopped grinning when he realized what Germany was doing. "West, I thought you said you were going to wallpaper the room?"

Germany carefully smoothed another bill into place "I am wallpapering the room."

"Uh, ok, but where's the wallpaper?"

"Couldn't afford wallpaper." Germany replied, brushing glue onto another 1,000,000 marks note.

"How did you manage to buy glue?" Prussia watched Germany's methodical movements as he brushed, glued and adjusted each piece of worthless money to the wall. Germany answered Prussia by turning around and giving him one of his steely cold glares that meant 'you don't want to know' then went back to work.

Prussia responded by rolling his eyes and dragging a chair closer to the stove. "Fuck it, what's for supper?"

"There's some bread left in the cupboard."

"Bread? That's all?"

"That's all the shops had left this morning and I could afford."

"How much money did you take?"

Germany's scowl deepened. His older brother never lifted a finger but was always the first to complain. Where was the Prussian discipline he always lectured _him_ about? "I filled up the hand cart, and carried a couple of satchels."

"And all you got was … bread. What about beer? You did manage at least a bottle of beer?"

"Sorry, no beer." Germany answered, stepping off the step stool to fetch another crate of banknotes. He returned to the room with a fresh box and broke it open. He looked up at Prussia when he realized his older brother hadn't moved since he left. "What?" He barked at him irritably.

"No beer? We have no beer?"

"Which would you rather have? Bread, or beer?"

"Is that even A _QUESTION?!_" Prussia shouted, "Fuck this, I wonder what France is having for supper tonight." He retorted reaching for his coat just as the door flew open and hit the wall with a thunderous crash.

"Ah, tonight at Chez Française you'll be dining on HELL!!" France screamed as he stormed into the room and grabbed Germany by his shirt collar. He threw him up against the wall and snarled, "Where is my money Kraut?" Germany answered him by slamming his knee into France's gut, who quickly sank to the floor coughing and holding his stomach. Germany straightened his shirt and picked up his glue brush. Prussia looked on and leered, watching France stagger back to his feet.

"Speaking of kraut, it's a shame we don't have any West."

"It certainly is, and some plump bratwurst simmering with it."

"Argh, all this talk of food!" Prussia whimpered, clutching at his stomach, "At this rate we'll have to eat the dogs." That earned him another steely glare from his brother. France made a noise that sounded like someone strangled a seagull and then managed to growl out, "You owe me twenty three billion marks in reparations, I've come to collect!"

"Oh, is that all?" Prussia said, and looked around the room, "I think we have that much right here don't we West?" He started grabbing banknotes out of the crate.

"Not those, I'm using the 1,000,000 marks for wallpaper, remember?" Germany grumbled.

"But I'm using the 5,000,000 marks for the stove." Prussia said, as he threw another armload into the fire. "I know, what about the 100,000 and 500,000 marks?"

"Gave those to the neighborhood kids." Germany answered, pointing at the children's fort outdoors. "Had to make room in the shed for today's pay. "They gave me the new 10,000,000 marks though; you can have those if you like. Tomorrow I get paid with the 20,000,000 marks banknotes."

France stared at both countries, mouth hanging open. "You're both mad." He stammered. "And I don't want your worthless paper money!"

"In case you haven't noticed yet." Prussia smirked, "We're experiencing a bit of an economic crisis."

"We printed all this money in an effort to boost our economy so we could pay you." Germany added, "And, well, you see where we are now." He had the faintest hint of a smile on his usually austere face.

France looked back and forth between the two. He was used to Prussia's maniacal grins but Germany …"You did this on purpose you Teutonic twats! You've ruined your own economy to get out of paying reparations!"

The brothers looked at each other, and then Prussia burst out laughing. France saw Germany's shoulders moving and realized he was laughing too, which suddenly gave him chills. "We're brilliant West! We figured out how to get out of paying these unfair reparations, and all it took was destroying our economy and starving to death!"

"Laugh it up." France hissed back. "I had a feeling this would be your reaction. Belgium at this very moment is marching our combined armies into the Ruhr Valley."

Germany stopped laughing and glared at France. France moved in close again and grabbed Germany by his collar; his eyes were wild as he stared into the other country's eyes, growing dark with anger. "That's right, Blondie, do you want to keep laughing? Is it still funny now?"

Germany's knee came up again and connected with France's groin. He watched with a genuine smile on his face as the other country hit the floor for the second time, curled up and whimpering like a baby.

Prussia's chest swelled with pride when Germany calmly replied, "March all the way to Berlin if you like you croaking frog. It won't change anything. The money's still worthless and with your presence in the Ruhr it will only get worse."

France's red face blanched. This was not the reaction he expected. "Worse?" His voice came out in a squeak.

Germany returned to gluing money to the wall. "_Ja,_ much worse I imagine."

Behind him he heard France swear under his breath and his older brother say, "It's obvious I'm not going to get any decent food at West's house tonight, if I leave now I might make it to Austria's in time." He reached down and grabbed France by the back of his coat, and hauled him to his feet. "Always a pleasure _Monsieur,_ I'll walk you out."

Germany listened to the front door slam shut, then looked out the window in time to see Prussia lead France to the children's money fort. Very loudly he said "Hey look who came to visit today kids, France!" The children jumped over the paper marks walls as a solid mob and descended on top of the startled country with sticks and rocks. The boy with the broken glasses threw a rock that hit France right on his nose just as Prussia returned inside. Once again Germany allowed the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

"Syphilitic wine swilling prick." Prussia grinned back at his brother. "What is it with him always getting girls to fight his battles for him?"

"Belgium is no one to toy with." Germany reminded his older brother, reaching into the crate for another stack of worthless banknotes.

Prussia ran his hand through his hair, "No she isn't, but what can be done? It's not as if we have an army to mobilize right now."

Germany stopped mid brush stroke and stared at his older brother. "What do you mean, 'right now?'"

"I'll be back tomorrow; I want you to come with me to a meeting and hear the new leader of the Brown Shirts speak."

"The Brown Shirts, those radicals?"

"Yes West, those radicals. Desperate times call for radical measures, or something like that. I want you to hear this man speak. He's not the best with words, but he has a way of saying them that mesmerizes even the most crowded lecture hall." Prussia grabbed his coat again and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Germany yelled, scowling again.

Prussia stuck his head back through the door, "Austria, I'm hungry! Enjoy your bread and I'll see you tomorrow!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Author's note: Money was the driving problem of the 1920's and the bad policies and business practices of the time led to the Great Depression. When America's economy crashed, the outstanding war debts Europe owed caused their economies to collapse as well. It was one of the main reasons the entire world ended up in hard times and people like Hitler and Mussolini regarded as saviors.


	2. Chapter 2

_Gee, but it's hard to love someone when that someone don't love you!  
I'm so disgusted, heart-broken, too; I've got those down-hearted blues;  
Once I was crazy 'bout a man; he mistreated me all the time,  
The next man I get has got to promise me to be mine, all mine!_

America reached over and turned up the volume on the radio. He sat back; one leg crossed over the other and watched the people outside enjoy the afternoon sunlight. A laughing couple walked by with tennis racquets. A group of children ran past, chased by a barking dog. In the distance he could hear the impatient horn of a delivery truck.

_Trouble, trouble, I've had it all my days,  
Trouble, trouble, I've had it all my days;  
It seems like trouble going to follow me to my grave._

If people were having any troubles, they certainly didn't act like it. The sad music on the radio belied the attitude of the country. Had there ever been a more peaceful, carefree time in the young nation's history? He watched the delivery truck pull up to the curb at the house across the street and a new electric wringer washing machine unloaded. Two men in white uniforms wheeled it into the house on a handcart.

_I got the world in a jug, the stopper's in my hand,  
I got the world in a jug, the stopper's in my hand,  
I'm gonna hold it until you meet some of my demands._

America was brought out of his reverie sharply by the sound of his front door slamming hard enough to shake the house and all too familiar voice shouting, "WHERE ARE YOU, YOU BLOODY GIT!" His head fell back on the chair and he looked up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell _he_ wanted now.

"There you are!" England spat out as he walked into America's sitting room and threw his raincoat onto a nearby chair. "Switch the wireless off I need to have a serious talk with you."

America let out an audible sigh and sat up to turn off the radio. "Hullo England, what brings you here? Care for something, I'll see what Lithuania's up to, he makes a great sidecar."

England lifted an eyebrow. "I thought alcohol was illegal now."

America couldn't stop the youthful grin. "It is."

"No thank you anyway. I need to leave this asylum with my eyesight intact." England said and found a chair opposite the young country. "It's interesting you should bring up a French drink, because that's why I'm here."

"I heard." America interrupted, "You would think, after what he just went through he wouldn't be so quick to mobilize troops."

"He's desperate. So am I. Why do you think Lithuania's here anyway? Things may be fine on your side of the Atlantic but they are far from perfect on our side, and now France and Belgium have occupied the industrial region of Germany for months trying to get some of the reparation money owed."

America laughed, "And how is that working out for him?"

"It isn't! Wipe that smile off your face boy this is serious! You can sit there and be sarcastic and make jokes but how long do you think Germany will sit by and let an invading army occupy his territory unanswered?"

"It's not as if he can do anything about it." America said. "It was you and France that made sure he couldn't. Making it so a country can't wage war is one thing, but making him defenseless?"

England's frown deepened. "Are you actually sympathizing with Germany?"

It was America's turn to frown. "What do you mean sympathize? I'm just saying –"

"You imbecile! Germany's the reason that whole ghastly war started!"

America now looked confused. "I thought Russia started the war."

England could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on, which often happened when he had to have a "serious" talk with America. "Who the blazes told you that?"

"Uh, Germany did."

England closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose." Oh. Never mind that, listen. The issue here is the war debt France has with your investors. Is it possible to cancel the debt? For that matter how about canceling all of the debts?"

"Even Germany's?" America smirked.

"You loaned _Germany_ money during the war?" The headache was full on now.

"Sure! We were neutral for most of it, remember? Nowhere near what was loaned you and France but we loaned the Germans money too. Sorry, but those debts can't be canceled."

England leaned back in his chair and opened his eyes. "And why the hell not?"

America stood up and walked to the window. "Because the investors who put up the money for those loans expect to be paid back; they refuse to cancel the debt." He turned back towards England who was now the one staring at the ceiling, he looked like he was in pain. "American business isn't a charity."

"Yes, my regards to Misters Fordney and McCumber. American business is anything but a charity. Who the fuck puts a 60% tariff on all imports?"

"Apparently Misters Fordney and McCumber." America replied.

"Enough, I've had enough!" England spat as he jumped up and faced the younger country, punctuating his words with jabs into America's chest. "Here is the situation, and I cannot stress enough how dire it is. With your tariff in place it's impossible for us to do any sort of trade to raise the money to pay off the war debt. France has invaded Germany, where the entire economy is on the verge of collapse. Still with me so far?"

"Ouch that hurts!" America shouted as he pushed England away.

Lithuania walked in just then and looked at both of them. "Are you at it again?" He said, "Just once I would like to see the two of you in a room and not have it turn into a brawl."

America rubbed the spot on his chest and meekly said, "Sorry, but England here seems to think Europe falling apart is my entire fault."

"You have to admit though, that tariff is hardly fair." Lithuania scolded America.

The young country sank back into his chair, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Lithuania looked over at England, who was looking out the window still scowling. "Anyway, I just came in here because I have a pitcher of sidecars ready and wanted to see if England was joining us for happy hour."

"C'mon England, get happy with us." America said. "Only the best bootlegged hooch from Canada. There's the business to get into, some of those rum runners are clearing twenty thousand a week."

England turned and looked at both of them. Lithuania filled sugar-coated martini glasses and handed one to America. He offered one to England while taking a sip from his own glass. England took the glass and had a sip. It was good, which surprised him. He took another and allowed himself to smile.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

An hour later England had his arms around America and Lithuania sitting on the sofa, telling them both they were the best friends he ever had.

"Bu really Amr'ca, somethin' has t' be done about France"

"Guillotine?" America offered, staring at the bottom of his glass.

England's eyes grew wide for a moment, and then he spilled the rest of his drink on America's pants as he threw back his head and laughed. "Oh bloo'y hell I WISH! But no, we have t' get him to leave G'many.

"Tell him they're opening a new all nude beach in Marseille." Lithuania said.

"I though' all th' beaches at Marseille were already nude."

"Oh, are they? I wouldn't know really." Lithuania added, rolling his eyes and pulling England's arm from around his shoulders so he could fetch America a towel.

"Bu' honestly, if I coul' afford it I woul' give G'many th' money meself. He's no' a bad sort really, sure as fuck doesn't deserve France of all countries invading him like that. G'many can be a bi' intense at times. Jus has this nasty habit of lettin' the wrong guy be his boss. Shame though' but I don' have any money, fuckkkk I can' even afford to pay you-" and England's head fell into the wet spot on America's pants.

Lithuania walked back into the room just in time to see England's head fall into America's lap.

"Shit." America muttered.

Lithuania burst out laughing. "England takes happy hour literally, doesn't he?"

Loud snores began emanating from America's lap. "He never could hold his liquor. Can you help me with him?"

"Sure, what do you want to do with him?"

"Throw him in the pool."

"America! He'll drown!"

"That's the idea." America's smile was wicked.

Lithuania looked at America for a moment, then a smile to match spread on his face. "Hold on, I'll be right back." He said as he jogged out of the room and up the stairs. A few minutes later he returned with a camera.

"What the hell are you doing?" America shouted, an alarmed look on his face.

"Immortalizing this moment in celluloid." Lithuania replied, as the flash burned the image on film forever. He put the camera in a safe place and helped America move a very limp England to a spare room to sleep it off.

"What are you going to do about France and Germany?" Lithuania asked America after he had changed his pants and they set to cleaning up the sitting room.

"I still don't see why it's my responsibility at all to fix Europe's fuck ups, but England said something right before he passed out that gave me an idea."

"What was that?" Lithuania asked.

"I'll help out Germany, and that will get France off his ass."

The idea of France on anyone's ass, including Germany's made Lithuania shudder.

"I need to make a phone call." America said, "Can you finish up here?"

"Sure!" Lithuania smiled. "I'll have supper ready soon too."

"Sounds good. You know, it's really great having you here Lithuania." America said, and then he headed out to the hall and picked up the candlestick telephone sitting on a small table. "Operator, I need a direct line to Vice President Dawes please."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Author's Note: A plan so genius only America could think of it. The brilliant plan will of course be fleshed out more in part 3 (this was originally going to be in two parts, but oh well). During the First World War the United States loaned a total of $10 billion to France and England, and about $27 million to Germany. There was quite a bit of debate as well that loaning money to belligerents violated the terms of neutrality in the government, but as was typical of the times, business won out in the end.

Germany wrote a letter to the United States explaining that Russia was to blame for the war in 1914. I can email you the link if you want to read it. The line that really made me O_O was: _**"For though it takes a great deal to rouse us Germans, when once aroused, our feelings run deep and strong."**_

The song America's listening to on the radio at the beginning is "Downhearted Blues" by Bessie Smith.

Top of Form

Bottom of Form


	3. Chapter 3

Germany sat silently, stifling the annoying cough he had developed over the past months; observing the other members of the committee and trying to shake the feeling of dread that this meeting was going to be another horrible waste of time. So far everyone else wanted to argue about other matters than the one that had brought them all here. America and England, the countries that had organized this meeting were both trying desperately to get a photograph away from France that apparently showed them in some compromising position. France of course refused to give them the picture and kept trying to show it to Belgium, who was only interested in sitting opposite Germany and giving him looks meant to kill; obviously still holding a grudge about what happened during the war. While France looked on and laughed as England put America in a headlock, insisting that he had been in on it with Lithuania to take the picture, the two brothers from Italy sat together discussing the tragic situation that they were in the gourmet black hole of Europe, and most likely going to starve to death.

"But Romano, what if they don't have pasta in London, we're going to die here! I don't want to die in England! It's too cold for one thing – "

"Shut up you stupid idiot! I packed plenty of pasta for the trip! We'll just have to manage and make do while we're here in this goddamned place!"

"How will we manage a decent antipasto? I can feel my body growing weak already!"

"All we have to do is find a place to boil water, these English bastards must be able to do that."

"But what if they can't boil water? The English can't cook anything else what if they don't know how? Oh God brother don't let me die!"

"Dammit you're stupid Veneciano, the English drink tea! They know how to boil water."

"That's in a kettle! You can't cook pasta in a kettle! We're doomed Romano!"

"Like I said idiot, we'll just have to make do … somehow."

Germany's irritation became more evident on his face when he over heard the other conversation in the room. Belgium had finally taken a look at the picture France had been trying to show her for the past 15 minutes and the first thing she asked was how the wet spot got on America's pants. Germany couldn't hold back the cough tickling his throat any longer.

"Enough!" Germany shouted at all of them. The room became silent as everyone jumped out of their skins at the sound of Germany's penetrating voice, then hacking cough that followed. "If this is the purpose of this meeting there is no need for me to be here. Is there any other business or should I just go now?"

France jumped out of his seat and leaned across the conference table, "Leave if you like, it will be more of the same from me in the Ruhr."

Germany stood up and leaned forward so that his nose was almost touching France's. "Fine."

"Hold on now!" America interjected, distracting everyone while England snatched the photograph from Belgium and slid it in the inside breast pocket of his suit. "Everyone please have a seat. Germany's right we're wasting time."

Germany and France sat down, never breaking eye contact. Romano and Veneciano were whispering loudly, with the younger Italy jabbing the older in the ribs, "Ask him Ask him!" Romano cleared his throat and raised his hand. "Uh, America? We were wondering if there will be a kitchen or some method of boiling water available?"

America stared at the brothers; Germany's expression was equally incredulous. France spoke up, "Not to worry, I've personally taken care of the meals myself. Shall we get back to the task at hand?"

Both Italy brothers looked relieved. "We would be delighted!" The younger Italy exclaimed.

"Sure, whatever." The older grunted.

"Thank you." America said, and then turned to the rest of the assembled committee members. "Here is the proposed plan to deal with the crisis in Germany, which will solve the problem of France being paid money owed. First, France and Belgium will agree to evacuate Germany's industrial district. Second, Germany, with the help of England and myself will begin restructuring the failed banking system and replacing the current worthless paper money with a new currency. Third –"

"Wait," Germany interrupted, "Just how will you restructure the banks?"  
"If you will let me finish," America said irritably, "Third, Germany will make reparation payments every year, beginning with the initial payment of one billion marks, and gradually increasing every year to a figure of two and a half billion marks to be paid every year until the total is paid in full."

Everyone in the room was silent; puzzled to downright confused expressions all around, until England finally opened his mouth and asked the question out loud everyone else was thinking. "America, there's only one thing we don't get about this plan. How can Germany restructure the banking system with no money?"

"I'm getting to that." America said, "If I can continue?" England sat back down and crossed his arms. "Thank you, as I was saying Germany's currency will be stabilized from two sources. The first will come from revenues from transportation and customs; the second source will be a loan of two and a half billion dollars from investors in the United States. This way, Germany can –"

"Hold on!" England interrupted, the headache was returning, "You're going to loan Germany over two billion dollars so he can make reparation payments, then France can pay back the loans he owes you?"

America glared at England, what was with all the interruptions? "That's what I said. Now if no one has any objections?"

England and France looked at each other. Belgium tried to stifle a giggle behind her hand. Both Italy brothers stopped arguing about food long enough to look at everyone else in the room wondering what was so funny. Germany covered his own mouth to cover a cough that sounded more like choking.

"No, no objections here!" England said grinning at France who started nodding his head in agreement.

"No, none!" France added, biting his bottom lip.

America allowed himself to relax, and then he looked at Germany. He looked thin and pale, and that persistent cough was worrisome, yet there was a strange light in his eye when he said, "This arrangement is acceptable to me." As he said it he fidgeted with the buttons on the plain brown shirt he wore, looking somewhat worried.

The brothers looked at each other, then Northern Italy asked, "Does this mean we get to eat now?"

"Uh, if everyone agrees to the plan then?" America looked around; France's shoulders were shaking ever so slightly. England was pinching the bridge of his nose but smiling at the same time. Belgium seemed to become very interested in her hands at that moment. Germany had two spots of pink color spreading on his cheeks but remained silent. The brothers were actually silent for once. "Fine, we'll break for lunch then, and return this afternoon to finalize the details."

Germany stood, looked across the table at France, and then walked out of the room. His coughing echoed back to the others still seated.

"Rather nasty look he gave you." England replied flatly.

France had a thoughtful look as he stroked the whiskers on his chin. "And what's with that uniform? Brown isn't his color at all."

England could only glance at France before everyone rose to have lunch. Sometimes France was as dense as America when it came to missing the point.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Prussia sat in his favorite chair enjoying the warmth radiating from the stove. He heard the front door open and the familiar boot stomps of his younger brother as he walked in removing his hat and coat. "Afternoon West." He said smiling.

"Good afternoon Prussia." Germany returned, sitting down and opening the newspaper he brought in with him.

Prussia looked at Germany for a moment, noting the returned color to his face and that his cheeks no longer looked sunken in. The persistent cough he had earlier in the year had disappeared as well. "I went and visited him today." Prussia stated.

"Oh, how is he holding out?"

"Quite well. He's being released soon."

Germany looked up, "Already? That is good news."

"It is, "Prussia returned, "He had time to do some writing."

"Does he plan on having it published? Germany asked, always interested in books.

"I believe he does. He wants to speak with you by the way."

Germany stopped reading again to look at his brother. "Speak to me? About what?"

"Oh, he's none too happy with this loan you took from America last summer."

Germany sighed and put the paper down. "No one was happy with that plan. France and England wanted America to cancel the war debt they owed and he refused. I wanted France to get the hell out of here. It was either accept the plan or continue living with that smug bastard."

"Oh I don't know, "Prussia grinned at his brother, "I had fun making his life hell while he was here."

"He never mentioned a word of it at the meeting. I think he was more than happy to go."

"I'll miss his cooking though." Prussia mused. "Speaking of which, what is for supper tonight West?"

"Frikadellen." Germany answered, returning to his paper.

"Sounds good. I could use a beer before supper, want one?"

"Is that even a question?" Germany asked, giving his brother a slight smile.

As I said, a plan so genius only America could come up with it. France and Belgium evacuated the Ruhr valley in 1925. Germany's economy stabilized and they made every war reparations payment on schedule until October 1929 when the American stock market crashed. With Europe owing so much money to the US, their economies crashed right along with America's. Hitler hated the Dawes Plan because it meant the German economy was tied with foreign investors, which could be potentially disastrous for Germany. Hitler being right on a number of key issues (or just lucky) helped him win the support he needed to come to power.


	4. Chapter 4

Germany scraped a small pat of butter against the crust of bread he was eating for breakfast and took a bite. He listened to the footfalls over his head as Prussia undoubtedly prepared for his next prank against France, who was staying in Germany's house uninvited. He chewed methodically as he watched the ceiling, anticipating the next barrage of screams and shouts to begin any minute. He didn't have long to wait when he heard a door hinge creak, and the sound of splashing and metal hitting the hallway floor above.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! FUCK what the hell is that!"

"Dammit France, did you just take a piss right here in the hallway? Don't you have toilets in that backwards country of yours?

"Someone put a bucket of urine on my door! This smells terrible … fuck!"

"You better get that cleaned up before West finds it, you know how he is about keeping this house clean."

_"Merde!_ You bastard you did this!"

"Me? How dare you! Move in here without asking first then blame me when you run around here fouling up my brother's house? "

"Where's the mop?! I will need to shower before I can leave now."

"In the closet at the end of the hall with all of the other cleaning supplies. Better hurry up!" Prussia shouted as he jogged down the stairs to the kitchen grinning. "Good morning West! How is your bread?"

"Tasteless." He replied, tossing the uneaten portion back on his plate. "What are you doing to my house now?"

_"Moi?"_ Prussia laughed, placing his palm on his chest. "France is the one spilling piss all over your hallway. Filthy pig!"

Germany closed his eyes and counted to ten, listening to France open the hallway closet door, slam it shut and then run water to mop the floor. He would wait until France left before heading up there to do a more thorough job of cleaning. He looked at his older brother grabbing a plate out of the cupboard. "What have you heard about the French government issuing their own currency in the Ruhr?"

"They decided against it." Prussia said, sitting down at the table and slicing off a piece of bread. "Seems things aren't working out the way they hoped. That and Belgium wants to leave." He shrugged as he haphazardly smeared a thick slab of butter across his bread.

"Belgium didn't realize France had every intention of annexing Rhineland?"

"Nope, and she's pissed now. Thought they would just waltz in, collect some money and go home." Prussia gave a snort of laughter. "Then the bastard went begging to England for help, and _he_ told him to get stuffed. So much for the 'Entente Cordiale.'" Prussia said, with a thick French accent.

Germany listened to France cursing as he mopped. "Have the Prussian government officials begun evacuating as ordered?"

Prussia answered by taking a huge bite out of his bread and rolling his eyes at his brother. Upstairs they listened to the hallway closet door slam shut again and France stomping in the direction of the bathroom. Germany and Prussia looked at each other while listening to France turn on the water in the shower and they both grinned at the same time. Prussia stuffed the rest of the bread in his mouth and as quietly as possible tip toed up the stairs. Germany followed his brother until they stopped in front of the water closet in the upstairs hallway next door to the bath.

Inside the bathroom, France had begun singing to himself. Prussia opened the door to the toilet and grabbed the chain hanging next to the water tank. He looked at Germany expectantly. Germany stared at the bathroom door for a few more moments, and then nodded his head. Prussia pulled the chain and as soon as the screams started Germany grabbed the mop bucket - left in the middle of the hallway he noted irritably - and set it in front of the bathroom door. He jumped out of the way just in time for France to come running out of the bathroom screaming "YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES!!!", step into the bucket and trip, sprawling naked and covered with soap across the hallway floor. He let out a loud 'OOOOF' when his chin hit the wooden floorboards.

"Jesus Christ what a klutz." Prussia said, letting France see his huge smile before heading back downstairs, whistling the same tune France had been singing in the shower. France looked up at Germany who leaned against the doorway with an expression on his face he didn't even want to speculate the meaning of.

"Shouldn't leave things in the hall like that, someone could get hurt."

France wiped the wet, soapy hair out of his eyes and fumed at the other country, who pushed his shoulder away from the doorjamb and followed his brother down the stairs. "Oh, nice ass by the way." He said and disappeared from France's view.

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Author's Note: I finished up the last chapter with Prussia commenting that while France occupied Germany's industrial region they made his life a living hell. This was my way of acknowledging the policy of passive resistance the Germans adopted while the French and Belgians occupied the Ruhr valley. Unfortunately I started imagining some of the things Prussia and Germany would have done to make France's life hell and well … this short fic is the result.


End file.
